


Something To Prove

by alessandralee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2469917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/pseuds/alessandralee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Skye's review of his undercover make out skills is less than glowing, Lance decides to prove her wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something To Prove

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Anonymous on tumblr, for the prompt "good enough."

“Not as terrible as I would have thought,” is how she describes it. “Good enough to convince them it was legit, at least.”

They’re sneaking through the back hallway of the ultra exclusive La Dolce nightclub, trying to figure out exactly where Raina disappeared to. The hallway is lit, but they’re dressed to blend in with the club-goers, so when the click of high heels echoes from around the corner, they can’t just melt into the shadows like usual.

Skye tests the nearest door, but it’s locked.

Calmly, as if he’s done this a thousand times, Lance nudges her back against the door. His left hand slides down her shoulder to rest on her waist as his right hand pulls her face in close.

When his lips press against hers, it’s enough to startle Skye. But it only takes a moment for her to lean into the kiss and wrap her arms around his neck. If their cover is going to be a horny couple sneaking off for some alone time, then she is going to sell it.

Luckily, the heels in question don’t belong to Raina. Also luckily, the guards that soon materialize to wrench them apart only throw them out the back exit. They’ve definitely lost Raina, but at least they don’t have to fight their way out of the club.

“That went better than it could have,” he tells her after she’s radioed in to Coulson and received the coordinates for their rendezvous with the rest of the team. He’s talking about the fact that his gun is still holstered and they’re not being interrogated, but Skye comments on his kissing skills.

If there’s one thing that Lance Hunter’s sure of, it’s that he’s a good shot. But if there are two things, the other is that his lips do great work.

She must be mistaken.

“You weren’t exactly a dream, either,” he tells Skye, but his ego’s still bruised.

“He’s never received anything other than glowing reviews (unless you count is ex-wife, and he doesn’t. It’s hard to work with someone who has more of a beak than a mouth). In fact, he was once told that mouth was a religious experience, a chorus of angels. Then again she was a poetry student and prone to hyperbole.

“You didn’t even warn me. It was kind of a surprise,” she protests.

“Fine, but I think we both know whose fault it really was.”

She gapes at him.

“You’re ridiculous. I wasn’t trying to insult you. I’m sorry that your beard is prickly and you used too much teeth.”

“So you thought ‘not terrible’ was a compliment? ‘Wonderful’ is a compliment. ‘Amazing’ is a compliment. ‘Wow Lance, show me what else you can do with your tongue’ is a compliment. ‘Good enough’ isn’t a compliment.”

He’s gotten so worked up about it that it takes him a moment to realize Skye is laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she tells him when she can finally breathe. “That was the best kiss of my life. I think I’m in love with you.”

He doesn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice.

“You just wait,” he tells her as Mack pulls up in a black SUV.

Whatever that means.

\-----

The poor review gets to him so bad that he actually loses sleep over it. He’s determined to prove her wrong. And he has a plan.

He puts it into action a week later, when he finds her doing another round of never-ending inventory. He thinks the room she’s in holds all the various dendrotoxin rounds they use.

He drapes himself against the doorway, hoping it looks casual.

“You busy?”

“Yes, but I could always take a much needed sanity break,” she tells him, muttering something about “tiny bullets” and “falling everywhere.”

“About last week,” he begins.

“You are not still going on about that kiss thing. Is this going to be like your hang-up with your ex-wife?”

“I do not have a hang-up with my ex-wife. She’s an evil harpy. I despise her.”

“Right. I cannot listen to you go on about this every day,” she throws her hands up in frustration.

“Fine, then let me prove you wrong.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Actually, I’m not.”

She crosses the room to stand directly in front of him.

“Fine,” she says, and it’s as much a challenge as an agreement.

Anything to shut him up. It’s been a week.

He falters, staring at her for a moment. He hadn’t expected her to agree so easily. He’d even prepared a speech. It was a good speech. Very convincing.

Then his hands move to rest lightly on her hips before pulling her in to close the small distance between them. He tilts his head down so his lips hover just above her and he pauses, just long enough for her to grow impatient.

Ultimately, she the one who leans up and pushes her lips against his, as she once again wraps her arms around his neck. He smiles into the kiss, and then slowly backs her up against the shelves, careful not to knock anything over. Forcing her to redo her inventory work would probably kill the mood. He sucks gently on her bottom lip and she can’t deny that he feels pretty good. Really good, actually. 

His grip on her waist grows tighter as his tongue slips into her mouth. One of her hands slides from his neck down his chest, then tightly clutches his t-shirt. She pushes back against him, trying to close a distance that doesn’t exist.

His hand slide down from her hips to her bottom as she lips, lips trail down her neck. She feels warm all over. She’s not even aware of what she’s doing with her hands any more; she’s too caught up in his kiss.

His mouth returns briefly to hers before he pulls back.

“And the verdict?” he grins.

“Take off your pants.”

It’s not as eloquent as ‘a chorus of angels,’ but he’ll take it.

“As the lady wishes.”


End file.
